


We Used to Trade Favors

by Jensine70



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 01:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14149269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jensine70/pseuds/Jensine70
Summary: During law school, Veronica is also working part-time for a law firm as a P.I. While trying to locate a missing witness, needs the help of someone willing to do her a favor and back her up – preferably a guy who can handle himself in a fight at a biker bar. Both single, haven't seen each other in 8 years, but Weevil and Veronica fall right back into their usual banter and flirting.





	We Used to Trade Favors

**Author's Note:**

> This fic begins one year before the 10-year high school reunion. I've kept certain details from the movie and discarded others.
> 
> Veronica is in New York, attending law school, dated Piz again for a while but it didn't work out.
> 
> Weevil has his own shop and got married, but is recently divorced. His daughter is 2 years old.

_Veronica POV_

A long time ago … we used to trade favors.

It had been nine years since graduation. Eight years since I left Neptune. Tried to put my past behind me.

I kept in touch with my dad, of course. Mac and Wallace, too. But no one else. And I didn't go back to visit.

Going to law school in New York City had become my excuse – too busy, too far to travel. But I could have made the time if I wanted to.

When I left Neptune, I wasn't just leaving behind the people and experiences, but also the way I chose to live my life. I had made a conscious decision to stop working cases.

After my first year of law school, it became apparent that I needed some income to balance the outflow of cash, I heard a couple classmates talking about the fact that they had become paralegals, worked in law firms before attending law school, and one of them even continued to work part-time on top of her demanding coursework. It occurred to me that larger firms employ private investigators. And it didn't take long before I got sucked back in.

I had been working part-time during my second year of law school, but the firm wanted me full-time for the summer. They were working on a big case and had been having trouble tracking down a key witness. They wanted me to focus on that while their primary investigator worked on other things.

It seemed unlikely that the witness had gone very far, but even looking in the five boroughs would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. The only lead that seemed promising was that the guy frequented biker bars. After finding a family connection in northern New Jersey, I found an old address and former employer nearby. He had a couple jobs where he must have been paid under the table. It was beginning to look to me like he would go back to that area – where he could work and live under the radar. Not much to go on, but I started to narrow my search to a few counties.

The guy obviously didn't want to be found. I certainly didn't want to spook him by going around asking questions as a P.I. After exhausting all my usual methods, I decided my best bet was to go to his hometown – use another name, get a job and an apartment, eat in local restaurants, go to the bars.

After I ran my plan past the lawyer handling the case, he was uncomfortable with me going by myself. He asked if I had any friends who would blend in, someone who would be willing to do me a favor and back me up – preferably a guy who can handle himself in a bar fight.

I only knew one person who fit that description. Problem was: I hadn't spoken to him in eight years.

It was easy enough to do a background check and find his current contact info. However, I was surprised by some of what I found.

He was now a business owner. He had gotten married, but was now divorced. He had a two-year-old daughter. If the photo on his shop's website was current, he had only gotten hotter since I'd last seen him.

Although I had been able to find his cellphone number, I opted to call his work number. It rang twice before someone answered. I asked if he was available and I was put on hold.

A couple minutes later, a familiar voice asked, "How can I help you?"

My reply was simple: "I need a favor."

There was a moment of silence. I wondered if the call had been cut off or if he had hung up.

Then, I heard him chuckle. "V? Is this a joke?"

"Not a joke."

"Are you in town?"

"No."

"Last I heard, you were in New York."

"You heard right."

"Well, I'm curious enough to ask … what's the favor?"

"I'm working on a case. Trying to find a guy that hangs out in some rough places."

"And you need someone to go with you? You don't have any friends there who can help you out?"

"Not anyone with tattoos who looks good in leather and rides a motorcycle."

"You know I hate to be typecast." He paused, probably waiting to see if I would volunteer anything else. "You're serious about this?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm hoping it would only take a week to check out the locations on my short list. Any chance you can take a week off?"

"You called me at work and I'm betting you did your homework before calling. So you know I own the place."

"Yes. I don't know if I can get you paid for the time, but I'm sure I can get all your expenses covered. The only thing it will cost you is the time away."

He didn't respond right away. When he did, he said, "Give me your number. Need to check on a few things. I'll call you back. Might take a couple hours."

I gave him my cellphone number and kept myself busy while I waited for his call. I sent an email to one of the partners of the law firm – he had mentioned he had a motorcycle I could borrow. Then, I checked that area for apartments and employment that would fit what I was looking for. I packed a few things and put the finishing touches on our fake IDs.

And then, I waited.

He called back about two hours later from his cell phone. He was packing while we talked.

"How soon can you leave?" I asked him.

"Today. Now."

"Really? I'll book your flight while you're driving to the airport. Call me when you get there and I'll give you the info. Or you could text me your email address."

"Will do."

"Weevil …"

"Yeah, V?"

"Thanks for doing this."

"We were always owing each other favors."

"But … a call like this … after eight years of radio silence?"

He didn't respond right away. When he did, his tone was serious and gentle, heavy and light at the same time. "I'm just glad to hear from you." He paused before adding, "And I'm looking forward to seeing you."

A smile slowly spread across my face as I said, "Me, too."

**Author's Note:**

> There will be plenty of flirting and banter. And a high level of "will they or won't they." Oh, and they'll find the missing witness along the way.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Until next time …
> 
> ~Jen


End file.
